Broke Down

A day after getting back from Peru, on my way home for some doctors appointments and to hang out with the parents, my car died. And it didn't just not start. No, the engine quit working at 70mph on I-80. I suddenly had no power steering and much less brake pressure. Thankfully I also had a fast approaching exit ramp that I could coast down and then park on while awaiting rescue from my father.

I killed the engine. It's dead. And it's my own fault. Apparently not screwing on the oil filter a month ago and then driving til there was only a quart of oil caused irreparable damage. Damage that didn't (thankfully) manifest itself until I had driven another couple hundred miles.

Peru was good. I love building. Even manual labor. Digging holes and ditches for septic tanks under the Peruvian sun? Frankly, I don't get enough exercise here. And it's awesome to get away from the desk, the books, the computer, and to end the day sore. And knowing that those holes and ditches mean that someday pregnant teens and orphans will get to go to the bathroom in a clean, safe place was incredibly motivating.

Hanging out with some really cool people was also amazing. Particularly because I don't get to hang out with any of them enough, and some of them none at all. Using my Spanish was sweet and made me want to learn more and only renewed my desire to one day be bilingual (and trilingual... and multilingual). Seeing Kelly on the way home was a super bright spot amidst too long layovers with too many sick people.

Despite the awesomeness... there was also a fair amount of un-awesomeness too. Two weeks is a long time. Particularly for 50 people. Particularly for construction. Particularly when there's a good deal of sickness going around. And some pretty intense questions about the value of short term VBS, defining success for our trip, and how much time/effort/emotion should be spent on the building as compared with other things. Lots of frustration was present. Frustration with the questions. Frustration with the answers. Frustration with the frustration.

I think I came home dangerously close to breaking down from lack of maintenance myself. Lots of transitions in not a lot of time. A new semester that will look totally different and is, as of now, completely uncertain. And after that the great void of the unknown.

All of this has been a reminder of just how much I like to be in control. And how much I like to be/look/appear responsible. Frankly, I feel pretty immature and irresponsible after causing thousands of dollars of damage to my car... by not remembering to screw one thing on the whole way. Trying to remember that seeming responsible is nowhere near as important as being faithful to Christ.